


Comatose

by This_kitty_has_claws



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_kitty_has_claws/pseuds/This_kitty_has_claws
Summary: Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier, You are part of the Avengers and Dating Bucky Barnes, Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha, you catch them in the act and things go downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

The mission had drained you, you were covered in bruises and dried blood, there had been too many agents and not enough back-up, you were sorely outgunned but you had gotten the intel that you needed, It wasn't uncommon for you to be sent on solo missions, your powers and skill set affording you the privilege of never really being the underdog. Stepping out of the quinjet on into the hanger, you hurriedly make your way to your shared bedroom with Bucky,relishing the thought of a hot shower and a night in his arms, you missed him terribly while you were away, things had been strange, distant between you of late, intimacy dwindling down to zero, He had refused to talk to you about it, and you were genuinely worried about the state of your relationship with the super soldier, chalking it up to, to many missions and not enough quality time, you swallow your fears and with renewed vigour strode through the compound looking for the man you love. 

 

Nearing your bedroom, you hear soft moans filtering through the door, you stop, listening intently,straining your already taxed senses, “Bucky” you hear Natasha gasp, your hand flies to your mouth, eyes wide with shock, you gently open the door, fighting down the rise of bile in your throat, Bucky is moving languidly on top of Natasha, hand wrapped around her throat, her back arching off the bed, as he fucks her in a way he hadn’t with you in a very long time, red hot flaring anger replaces the horror in your chest, “Having fun?” you say loud enough for them both to hear, Bucky’s movements stop almost instantly,head whipping around to stare at you agape, Natasha pales, mouth opening and closing, searching, apparently for a way to justify betraying her best friend, “(y/n)” Bucky says as he pulls out Natasha scrambling for clothing “I can explain” he starts “Oh spare me the ‘i can explain’ bullshit Barnes” you spit, eyes blazing red with power, he flinches visibly at the use of his last name “I do not want to hear your excuses, get your shit out of my room and leave. Both of you. Now” you turn to leave, desperately needing to get out, get away from him. From her. From this place, from the people you had given up everything for “Wait” Bucky yells as he catches up with you, grabbing you by the arm he spins you around, you try yanking your arm away, shoving at his chest to dislodge him “Listen” he hisses grabbing your free wrist in his metal arm, effectively cutting off your assault “I’m sorry, it just happened” he states “It just happened” you echo duly “How did screwing my best friend just happen James?” your anger is mounting, overtaking the pain in your chest by miles, he doesn't seem to recognise the danger, because he forges on “She was there when we started drifting apart, she always had a way of pulling me back from the edge, i just.. i need her” he sighs “Please understand, I love ya doll, i do,but Natalia…” you’re dumbstruck, feelings of worthlessness worm themselves into your mind, testing your already fragile control, he seems completely oblivious to your internal struggle “I think i'm in love with her..and i'm in love with you, and please..I jus.. I made a mistake” he says rather uncertainly, “let me make it easy on you then Barnes” you reply as you unleash your power, divesting yourself of his hold “If you ever put your hands on me again, I will kill you” you state simply as you advance on him, Bucky is flailing in mid-air “If you ever look at me again, i will cut out your eyes and feed them too Natasha” you say as you slam him against the wall “If you ever say my name again i will cut out your tongue and leave it for Steve to find” you forge on as tears sprang unbidden to your eyes, trying frantically to regain control of yourself “I loved you, gave you everything i could James, and you ripped it all away from me, everything i held dear with no thought of what it would do to me.” you muse, you release him, and watch as he falls heavily to the floor, you turn to leave, seeking any reprieve from the hell you seem to have walked into,

“Maybe you are the monster you think you are James” is the last thing you say as you climb into the elevator, watching as he breaks down on the carpeted floor. 

 

The elevator ride is the longest you had ever endured, praying that you could make it to Tony’s lab without turning into a sobbing mess, you are keeping a tumultuous control of your emotions, fighting your very nature, your very urge to cry, to sob, to scream. But you can't, Not yet. The elevator doors pinged open, and you step unsteadily out of them, making a beeline for the billionaires lab, you barely pay attention to your surroundings, ignoring the calls of your name from fellow agents. You need to get out of here, and soon.

Throwing open the door to Tony’s lab, you call out gently, receiving an answering clan, followed by the man himself “what's up sugar?” he asks “I need a few days” you reply he quirks an eyebrow “A few days for what?” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose “T, i really can’t explain right now” heaving in a breath “I need you to let me do this please” you beg, he eyes you warily “What does the tin can have to say? Is he going with you?” you hiss at him “No, he will be staying right fucking here, far away from me” Tony has the good sense not to question you further, agreeing to give you 3 days off, but only if you check in once a day, you agree without hesitation and finally take your leave of the compound, making your way to the apartment you keep in the city. 

15 Minutes later you step into your apartment, stripping off the combat suit you're wearing, you head for the shower, paying no mind to the framed photos of you and Bucky that seem to shatter as you pass, you let the hot water cascade over you, finally letting the bottled up emotion spill over, you scream desperately at nothing, praying for some sort of reprieve from the pain that's coursing through you, how could he? How could he do this to me? Sobs racking your frame, you slide down to the floor, curling yourself into a ball why wasn't i good enough? What's wrong with me? Self-hatred prevalent in your mind. You cry for what feels like hours before you finally find the energy to pick yourself up, dry yourself off and climb into bed, hoping that when you wake, this would all just have been a bad dream and Bucky would still be here with you.


	2. The Morning After

Waking up the following morning is like ascending from a year in ice, your heart is cold and numb, eyes crusted together with sleep and dried tears, your lips are cracked and voice scratchy from screaming your pain at the four walled prison you had made for yourself, you contemplate calling Bucky, going as far as reaching for your phone,ignoring the 80+ missed calls you have from various Avengers, finger hovering over the call button on the screen, when the images of his betrayal replay inside your head, stifling a sob caught in your throat, you instead dial another number, the number you haven't called in over 3 years, and pray that he will answer, you didn't leave on the best of terms. Ring. Ring. Ring… “What” comes the gruff voice over the phone “Lo-Logan?” you croak, silence greets you, then “(y/n)” the curt reply has your heart plummeting into your stomach, “I’m sorry” you sob “I shouldn’t have called” “No, wait (y/n) what’s goin on?” you begin to cry in earnest then “I’ll be there in 4 hours” he says as the line goes dead. You stare at your phone in horror, no… oh fuck.. Scrambling out of bed, you fly into the shower, scrubbing every inch of your skin, shampooing your hair and rinsing in record time, rushing to your closet, you pick out black, skinny ripped jeans, combat boots,and a studded, capped sleeve, loose fitting t-shirt. You run a brush through your damp hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail. Brushing a light dusting of blush across your cheeks and applying a coat of mascara to your eyelashes. Feeling armed enough to face the onslaught of questions the arrival of Logan will bring, you step into your living area, taking in the shattered glass on the floor, well fuck, this is a mess, you think, as you float the pieces of glass in the air, you disintegrate them with a twitch of your fingers, turning your focus to the rest of the apartment,you straighten the hot mess you frazzled nerves made last night with a flick of your wrist, satisfied with your progress, you sit yourself on the couch, staring patiently at the door, waiting for his arrival.

3 hours and 30 minutes later you hear a knock on the door, a weird sense of panic and relief washes over you, opening the door, you take in Logan's frame, he hasn’t aged a day, Strong muscular frame, hair styled just so, White wife beater under a leather jacket “(Y/N)” he says in greeting “Logan” you reply as you step aside to let him in, gesturing to the couch, you fidget as you ask “Want something to drink?” “Nah” he replies “What i want is for you to tell me why you called me out of nowhere, sounding like hell” he states plainly, you sigh as you take a seat next to him “I don't know why i called” you trail off “I guess i needed to hear a friendly voice..I..” you start crying as you try to get the words out “The man i love, My boyfriend of 2 years, thought it a fucking great idea to sleep with my best friend, and then he tells me he’s in love with both of us!” exclaiming shakily “I’m such a fool to think it could have happened any other way, I mean you left me for another woman” you laugh mirthlessly as Logan growls “Why the hell would it be any different this time? Why would anyone see me as anything else but a pit stop to something better?” pulling your knees to your chest “What's wrong with me Logan? Why can't anyone love me enough to stay?” your crying in earnest now, great heaving sobs shaking your delicate frame “there aint nuthin wrong with you sweetheart” he says while he pulls you into his side “I loved Jean, I loved you, I just loved her a lil more and i ended up killin her” He snorts out a laugh “she broke me, more than once, but you, you saved me, from the nightmares, from the darkness and i treated ya like shit, and i’m sorry for that” he sighs loudly “he’s an idiot this man of yours, and i'm sorry he hurt ya” he says gruffly, lightly clearing his throat, “I love him Logan, More than i loved you, and a part of me wants to run back there and forgive him for everything” licking your dry lips you carry on “And i need to go back, because it's my job, people count on me, i'm gonna have to face them both, and deal with this, and i really just want to go home” you say as you cling to his shirt “you wanna come home?” he asks tentatively “yeah, i really just want to go home Logan” you reply truthfully “I wanna feel anything but this” he scrutinizes you for a full minute before he takes out his phone and dials a number:

“Professor” he says as your head snaps up “We have a problem” he listens to the voice for a full 30 seconds before he says “that’s the lay of the land yeah, what can we do about it?” silence again “Alright.I’ll let her know. See you in a couple of days professor” he presses the end call button and looks down at your shocked face “Don't look at me like that, you said you wanted to come home” he says while quirking an eyebrow “I didn't mean for you to call my Brother!” you scrambly upright frantically “We haven't spoken in more than 4 years Logan!” you yell as you pace up and down “There’s a reason i haven’t been home to visit!”

“Well suck it up darlin, He’s makin calls your being transferred back to the X-Men”


	3. The Aftermath

Your three days were up. It was time to go back to the compound to face Bucky and Natasha, and you had dragged Logan along for moral support. He had grumbled and fought you on it, eventually relenting by saying he would start packing up the meagre belongings you’d kept in your bedroom at the compound.

Stepping out of the elevator, your nerves make themselves known. You really do not want to be here, do not want to see him, or her. On the verge of panic, hyperventilating wildly, Logan grabs your hand, giving it a quick squeeze, and muttering, “Almost done, sweetheart. You can do this.” Gathering your remaining strength, coating it in a layer of bravado, you make your way to the meeting room where the Avengers have settled to discuss your transfer. 

“Morning,” you mumble as you enter, avoiding the pained gaze of Bucky.   
“Well, hey there stranger,” Tony quips. “You ready?” You had spoken to Tony as soon as Logan had informed you that he had received the call from Charles. He wasn't happy with your decision, but he respected it nonetheless.   
“Yeah, I’m ready,” you reply.   
“Alright! Let's get this started,” he says as he claps his hands together, the sudden noise pulling a flinch out of you. “(y/n) is being transferred out to an undisclosed location, to help head up an all Mutant team.” You screw your eyes shut as a slew of protests erupt around the room. You can't bear to look at any of them; to see the hurt on their faces.   
“(Y/N) what the hell?” comes Steve voice. “You disappear for three days and then come back to tell us your leaving?” he asks, disbelief coloring his tone.   
“Steve,” you sigh. “I can’t be here anymore. I can’t offer you a better explanation than that.” As your gaze catches Bucky’s, he’s looking at you like he’s going to break apart any second. His entire being screams defeat, and you can't help but feel guilty. Casting your gaze down, you mumble, “I’m sorry, I made a promise to you all, but I need to do this for me. If you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away.” Lurching to your feet, you rush to leave, reaching the door in record time. Flinging it open, you race out, frantically searching for Logan.   
Spotting him lounging on a chair, your bags packed at his feet, you walk quickly toward him. “We need to go. Right now,” you hiss when you hear footsteps behind you. Grabbing Logan by the hand, you try desperately to move his adamantium filled behind out of the chair and toward the elevator.   
“I see you moved on fairly quickly, (y/n),” comes Bucky's angry declaration causing you to freeze mid step; frustration and hurt welling inside you.   
“At least I waited until we broke up, Barnes!” you retort scathingly.   
“This him?” Logan asks, eerily calm. You don't reply as you whirl around to face Bucky, stopping dead at the sight of Natasha next to him.   
“Listen, Bub, you need to back the fuck off. Haven't ya done enough harm?” Logan snarls, advancing menacingly on Bucky.   
“This is not your fight, Logan!” you yell, grabbing for his hand, trying to keep them apart which sets Bucky off. He pulls back his metal fist and lands a hard punch to Logan's jaw; the resounding clang of metal on metal leaves your ears ringing, and you wait for the shit storm that's about to be unleashed. “Logan,” you plead as he unsheathes his claws.   
Taking his classic fight stance, claws singing when he runs them together, Logan eyes Bucky up and down. “Alrigh’ Bub. Ya asked for it!”   
Logan runs at Bucky while you try and yank him back by the edge of his shirt. It tears, sending you falling onto your ass as the force propels you backward. Bucky is holding his own, landing heavy blows to Logan's body, who slashes a long gash into Bucky’s thigh.   
“Stop!” Natasha screams, making a beeline for Logan.   
You scramble upright, flinging out a blast of power that stops that sends her into the wall. Focusing on the fighting men, you separate them forcefully with your mind. “ENOUGH!” you scream, voice amplified by your power. “Stop acting like children! Wait for me outside, Logan.” He growls like an angry animal, refusing to move toward the exit. “Logan, please!” you beg, and he finally relents, spitting at Bucky’s feet as he makes his retreat. What cuts and bruises he’d sustained were already healing, unlike Bucky whose blood was dripping onto the floor. 

“What the hell was that!” Natasha yells at you. “Your friend nearly killed him!”   
You can only stare at her in shock. “You, Natasha, have no right to speak to me. No right to look at me. Get the fuck out of my face before I ruin yours!” you snarl at her. She visibly pales at the threat, and Bucky appears to come to her rescue.   
Except he hasn’t, his intentions made clear with his next words. “Don't leave,” he murmurs, limping toward you, causing Natasha to gasp in surprise.   
“W-what?” Natasha whispers.   
“Please baby, don't leave. We can work this out,” he reiterates, ignoring Natasha, coming to a halt before you. “I can make this right, (Y/N),” he murmurs as he pulls you to his chest; his grip on you is nearly bone crushing. “I made a mistake, I’m sorry. Please don't go.”   
Natasha’s sharp intake of breath is filled with pain, and you feel slightly vindictive. She hadn’t been expecting this, and you debate for a second if you really need to go; if you couldn't forgive him and move past this.   
No, you think. There was no real guarantee he wouldn't do it again. He had hurt you, he had shattered your sense of self worth with one action, and he had made you lose control of yourself. No. No matter how badly you wanted to stay with him, you needed time for reflection away from all of them.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say as you push away from him. “But I can't stay here, I can't be with you. Not after what you did.” A stray tear pushes itself past your defenses and falls down your cheek. “I love you, but I won’t let you break me,” you say as you walk away, hands shaking and pain threatening to overwhelm you. 

With every agonizing step you take away from him, you repeat to yourself, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.


	4. Logan To The Rescue

Sliding down the wall outside the compound, breath coming out in short sharp pants, your eyes are wild with panic. You’re mumbling incoherently, trying your best to reign in your fraying sanity.   
“(Y/N), sweetheart, look at me.” Logan's voice punches through the panic. “Focus on me,” he says as your gaze snaps to his. “Take a deep breath.”   
You do as he asks.   
“Find your anchor.”   
You reach inside yourself, searching for something to root you in reality. Anything would do at this point, a memory snaps into focus;

“(Y/N)” Charles says, “Your power is yours to control.” He draws soothing circles on your back, helping you focus. “You control the power, it does not control you,” he continues. “You are stronger than your emotions, you are not weak, it cannot break you.”   
“Brother,” you whisper. “I am afraid.”   
“I know, and that is where your power lies.” A wide smile spreading across his face

Your breathing slowly calms, vision coming back into focus. Searching for Logan’s hand, using it to anchor yourself back in the present. “Logan,” your voice croaks.   
“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”   
Relief floods through you. He isn't going to leave you, not again. Not like last time.   
“Are you alrigh’ now? Do you need another minute?” Concern laces Logan’s tone.   
“No,” you reply shakily. “No, I’m okay now. Take me home please.”   
You're exhausted, struggling to make sense of the last few days. You want to curl into a ball and cry, bury your head beneath the covers and sleep away the pain filling your soul. You need time to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart, and you haven't a clue how to fix this. To fix yourself. You want to run, far far away, where no one knows you or Bucky. You need to outrun the pain, the fear, the thisness of what you are feeling. But there's nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, no way to escape without shutting it all off.   
“Alrigh’, sweetheart. Let’s get ya home.” Logan hauls you to your feet, but you completely miss the concerned way he keeps glancing at you. 

When you get home, Logan strips you down and ushers you toward the shower.   
You’re comatose.   
Numb. A walking zombie. You couldn't care less about your surroundings.   
“In ya go,” he grumbles as he maneuvers you under the spray. “You’ll feel better after a shower. Yell or somethin’ when you're done,” he huffs and exits the bathroom.   
He’d stripped you naked, placed you beneath the water, and you hadn’t even noticed. Staring blankly at the tiled shower wall, you will yourself to feel something -- anything -- but there's a barrier keeping the emotion out. You can't get through. You scratch and claw at your mind, but nothing is coming out. Your dry as a bone, nothing left to give. You can't even cry. 

What’s happening to me? you wonder as you sink to the floor. Why can't I feel anything? Especially as the pain had been so strong, so present, less than an hour ago.  
Time passed, the water ran cold, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You don’t know how long you have been sitting there, shivering in the shower, until an angry Logan hauls you out and wraps you in an oversized towel. He rubs you down so viciously, he nearly takes a layer of skin off. Still, you feel nothing.   
“Dammit, (Y/N)! You’re gonna catch your death pulling shit like this!” he admonishes you, a roughness to his voice that barely pierces your veil of numbness. Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head he snaps, “What were ya thinking?”   
You don’t answer, content to stare blankly at him.   
He mutters a quick, “Fuck!” as he picks you up and carries you to the unmade bed. Dumping you -unceremoniously on top of its unmade surface, he pulls the covers to your chin and tucks you in, distractedly kissing the top of your head.  
“Sleep. Things will look better in the morning,” he tells you and you nod absently.   
“Logan,” you call, and he turns to face you. “Thank you,” you say. He nods gruffly and leaves, closing the door. You lay there, broken and hollowed out, for what feels like days when you hear Logan making a call.   
“Professor,” he rumbles. “She ain’t okay. She’s retreated into herself, and she ain’t snapping out of it.” He sounds panicked. Most likely thinking about Jean and how she had done the same before he’d been forced to ‘save’ her from herself. “I dunno what to do.” He listens intently for a few seconds, before finally grumbling, “Yeah, I’ll try. See ya in a few days.”   
The silence that follows is suffocating, spreading through you, threatening to break the final threads of your sanity.   
Logan clicks open the door and sighs when he sees you curled on your side, facing away from him. There is the sound of cotton rustling, his shirt coming off, and a clank when his belt buckle follows taking his pants to the floor. He climbs in behind you, pulling you into him by the waist, and tucks his knees into the back of yours. The coarse hair on his legs tickles, while the heat of his skin makes you sigh.   
Burying his head in the crook of your neck, nose brushing along your skin, he growls a deep, content sound, and your entire body relaxes.   
Basking in the familiarity that is The Wolverine, you breath in his woodsy scent and pull his arms tighter around you. Safe. It’s the last thing you think as you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. I’m safe.


	5. Ties that bind

You startle awake. There is a warm heavy weight hampering your movement, and you freeze for a second before your mind catches up with your situation. Logan is draped across your chest, legs intertwined with your own, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. Moving slowly, you begin the arduous process of detangling yourself from the bearlike man.   
Careful as you can so you don't wake him, you finally manage to slip out of bed, making your way to the bathroom. Taking care of your needs, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and you recoil in shock. You don't recognize the person staring back at you. Your eyes are dull and red-rimmed, with bags heavy beneath them, and your skin is pale and drawn. Sighing to yourself, you draw a brush through your hair, resolving to at least pretend to be able to deal with this. What was that old adage? Fake it till you make it, right? 

Satisfied with your appearance, you make your way to your closet, earning a mumbled, “Mornin’,” from a groggy Logan.   
“Morning,” you reply as he eyes you warily.   
“How ya doin this mornin?” he inquires.   
“I’m fine, wolf man. Stop stressing.” You fake a smile in his direction, if he doubts you he doesn't let on.   
Settling instead for a wry chuckle and a, “Shut up, Bub,” he gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom.  
While you strip out of your night attire, donning a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, and pulling on a pair of converse, you make your way to the kitchen to start breakfast. You were leaving that afternoon, and a solid breakfast would take you a long way. Reaching into the cupboard to retrieve the batter you would need for pancakes, you stall halfway when a knock sounds at the door. With a frown on your face, you make your way to the source of the noise. Pulling open the door, you come face to face with none other than James Buchanan Barnes.

“I thought I made myself clear, Barnes,” you say duly. He flinches at your emotionless tone.   
“I need ta talk ta ya. Please, doll,” he pleads.   
With a sigh you relent, ushering him inside, waiting patiently for him to say something, anything. He gives you only silence as he fidgets nervously under your intense scrutiny. When you’ve finally had enough of his stalling, you huff, “Out with it, Barnes. I can't stand here and watch you flounder all day. I have shit to do.”   
“Yeah, um, right. Can I sit?” he asks.   
You gesture to the couch, giving your permission, and take the seat opposite him.   
“I know I fucked up,” he starts. “I know what I did was as bad as it gets, especially with your history, and I have no excuse.” He sighs, dropping his head into his hands. “You're my everything, (Y/N), and I can't watch you walk out.” He’s crying, tears leaving translucent tracks down his cheeks. “I’ll give ya all the time you need, I’ll do whatever you want, just don't leave,” he begs, growing increasingly agitated. “I’ll stay as far away from ya as you want, just stay here!”   
You hold up your hand, cutting off his tirade. “What I need is to leave, James. Something is fundamentally broken inside me, and staying here isn't going to help me fix it,” you quietly explain. “I can't bear to be near you, or Natasha. I don't want to be. You did the one thing you promised never to do.” Gripping the armrest of the couch tightly, you can feel yourself quake, and gave a mirthless laugh. “You took everything we were, everything we could have been, and threw it away!” Rising from the couch, you move away from Bucky, toward the door.“I’m not saying I won't ever be able to forgive you, but right now, I’m walking a thin line between love and hate, and I need to go before you destroy me completely. So please, get out. Give me time. Respect me enough to leave me alone. If I want to talk to you, I know where to find you.”   
Bucky draws in a shaky breath, swallowing down whatever smartass retort was building there. “Fine,” he relents begrudgingly. “But I ain’t giving up on you, doll. Or on us.” His words ring with promise as he heads for the door. Stopping briefly, he hesitates before dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, then exits the apartment, leaving you standing in the middle of your living room floor, contemplating your lack of response to the world around you.   
Shrugging your shoulders, you continue with your plan for making breakfast, returning to shuffling around the kitchen.   
Logan clears his throat loudly, suddenly inches from you, and pulls you back by the waist. “Move over. You were always a shit cook,” he grumbles, grabbing the spatula and shoving you toward the vacant seat at the kitchen counter. “I heard voices.”   
“Yeah.” You shrug. It really didn’t matter.   
“You wanna talk about it?” he says, sneaking glances at you from his peripheral.   
“No, thank you, Logan,” you reply, staring dead ahead. 

It’s then that Logan starts to worry. He knows that look. The dead eyes. The emotionless voice. You are slowly chipping away at the very foundation of who you are, and it sends a sharp sting of fear up his spine. He doesn't want to think of the havoc you could bring to the world if you give up on your humanity. 

She might just destroy us all, he thinks as he loads pancakes onto your plate.


	6. Going Home

The car ride to the school had been filled with silence. Logan had tried to strike up a conversation on several occasions, but you weren't having any of it. You were content to stare out the window, trying to figure out what went wrong. How could you have been better? 

It was a strange sensation.

Your mind was a mess of thoughts, mostly bad, but it was as if your heart had detached itself. You felt nothing.

Flashback:

“(Y/N).” Logan's gruff voice sounds behind you. 

You turn and fling your arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. “You're back,” you whisper into his neck. Happiness sings in your veins with every beat of your heart.

He walks you backwards, and sits you down on the couch. Kneeling in front of you, he grabs your hands, and stares you dead in the eye. “It's Jean.” 

You deflate. Happiness flees as quickly as it came. With the smile slipping off your face, you nod. “You're leaving me,” you state plainly. 

Surprise covers his features. “How did ya know?” 

You snort. “I know you, Logan. I’m not blind. Just answer one question for me.” You take a deep breath. “Did you sleep with her while we were together?” He flinches at the question 

“No. I wouldn't do that to ya. I love ya.” 

You laugh in earnest now, the sound hollow and full of anguish. “You love me? Not enough apparently.”

 

Present:

Gravel crunches underneath your shoes as you make your way into the mansion. Duffle bag slung over your shoulders, you steel yourself to meet your brother. It has been years since you last laid eyes on him. 

Sighing as you enter, you come face to face with the man who raised you. Who had showered you with affection when your parents had overlooked your existence. While you hadn’t aged, he certainly had.   
“Charlie,” you greet, “It’s been a while, you look well,” you acquiesce.   
“(Y/N) welcome home,” he replies, his usually stoic features marred by a frown. “We have set you up in one of the spare bedrooms for the time being.” He gestures to the stairwell where Storm is waiting to escort you to your temporary lodging. “You may begin training with the others as soon as you feel up to it.”   
You nod and reply, “I’d like to start tomorrow, I’ve been out of action for too long.” He looks at you searchingly.  
“I was hoping we would be able to talk tomorrow. We have much to discuss.”   
You recognise the tone, it was one he had used on you many a time, and inwardly roll your eyes. “Of course, Charles. Lunch?” you inquire. He nods in agreement.  
“I will send Storm to collect you at 12.”   
You move toward the stairwell tipping your head in acknowledgement of Storm, effectively dismissing yourself from your brother's presence. Following along like a ghost, you forgo speaking with the woman as memories, long locked away, fill every corner of what used to be your home. Images of playing with Charles in the parlor you pass, or on the stairs you climbed, seem to be imbedded in the very wood and stone. When Storm finally stops before a heavy wooden door, you gave a distracted smile of thanks, walk through, and fall face first on the bed. You’re drained and want nothing more than to sleep until you wake.   
But sleep comes fitfully., Images of Bucky and Logan keep morphing into one your mind. You couldn't discern who was who anymore, and it left you reeling. You knew you were loosing the grip you had on your mind, but you had little inclination to do something about it. It’s as if any morality and feeling you once had, has retreated into a dusty corner in your head. It was refusing to come out.  
Mentally checking yourself, you move out of bed. Making your way to your bags you pick out the least crinkled items of clothing you can find and head to the shower. Thanks to your restless night, you’d overslept and had maybe 30 minutes before Storm would arrive to escort you to the dreaded lunch with Charles.

Stepping underneath the spray, you reflect on the last week of your life. This is such a mess, you muse. The dull echo of hopelessness flares momentarily in your chest, causing you to frown. There is a whisper, a voice inside your head that echos briefly, finally loud enough for you to hear one name. 

Bucky. 

Your movements stall, confusion flowing through you. Straining your senses you try to zero in on the voice, but it’s already retreated and you find nothing. Shrugging it off and chalking it up to stress, you step out of the shower and finish dressing just as a knock sounds at your bedroom door. 

Following Storm throughout the vast Mansion, you reach Charles’s private quarters much too quickly for your liking. You weren’t quite ready to face what resided on the other side of that door. Thanking Storm politely, you enter the luxurious rooms, following the heavenly smell wafting from behind a door   
“Charles,” you murmur moving toward him as he maneuvers his wheelchair to face you.  
“Good Morning. Won't you sit?” he asks.   
You take the proffered seat, making yourself comfortable in the plush chair.  
“Are you going to tell me why you really didn't want me to train today, Charlie?” you ask getting right to the point, reaching for a pastry from the tray in front of you.  
“You are unstable, (Y/N),” he replies.  
“I’m aware. But I am not Jean,” you reiterate for what feels for the hundredth time. “And if you start comparing us again I’m leaving.” There was only so much living one could do, when that living was done in the shadow of another.  
He sighs. “I made a mistake with you, I admit. I felt that your power was so similar that you must have the same limits,” he snorts out a laugh, one filled with contempt for his past mistakes.   
“Yes, that was always the problem wasn't it? I was in her shadow and you were the one who put me there. Jean was everything you wanted me to be, Charles and when I didn’t measure up, you dismissed me. You pushed me out of my home, made me feel inadequate. I lost everything.” It’s a fact. There was no way around that, and what forgiveness he seems to be looking for, you’re not sure you have it in you to give.   
“I know,” he simply says. “And I am sorry.” He looks out the window before he continues. “If you afford me the privilege of starting anew, I wish to help you.” His piercing blue eyes boring into yours. “I wish to correct the mistakes of my youth. I am not immortal as you are. I will not live forever, and I wish to have a relationship with my sister before my time comes.” He reaches across the table to take your slack hand. “Please, let me help you. Let me love you as a brother should.”

As you contemplate his words, you can feel the sincerity radiating off him. He wants this. He wants to try, and if you’re honest with yourself, you admit to missing him terribly these last years. Perhaps forgiveness is as easy as saying yes.

That disembodied voice floats through your mind again. With it, only one word: 

Bucky.

Charles’s expression morphs to neutral, but not before a flicker of fear passes over it. It sobers you. He’s worried. And that worry is aimed at you. Did Jean also walk this path? Did she descend into madness, into this numb, empty place before she turned? 

Grabbing the orange juice, you pour two glasses, offering him one. As you clink your glass against his, you simply say, “To new beginnings.” If he wished to try, you would let him. He was the only family you have left.


	7. Bucky

Bucky’s POV

It had been days, days, since he last held you in his arms. Heard you laugh. Felt your warmth. The last time he had seen you had terrified him. You weren’t who he remembered. There was no emotion to your voice, no expression on your face. You had been like an ice sculpture, perfectly frozen, and he had done that to you. His words, his actions, had done that to you. He was disgusted with himself.   
He had betrayed the woman he had loved to be with Natalia, a woman his warped mind had told him he needed to feel normal. To feel loved. He couldn't pinpoint the moment where he felt that (Y/N) no longer held him together. That your heart and love wasn't enough for him, and he detested himself.   
You had left because of him. He had run you off, and he didn't know if you were coming back. A knock on the door has him moving forward in a daze. He had little desire to speak with anyone, and no desire to hear another round of accusations thrown at him. They were all true accusations. He just didn’t need them to tell him again what a fuckup he was.  
Turning the handle and swinging the door open reveals a very teary eyed Natasha. He groans inwardly, Not now. He couldn’t deal with her and his own guilt at the same time.   
“Bucky,” she sniffles. “Can I come in?”   
He steps aside, nodding his agreement but leaves the door ajar, not needing the repercussions if someone thinks they’re picking up where they’d left off. “What do you want, Natalia?” He sighs when her pleading eyes lift to his.  
“You,” she replies simply.   
Thrusting a hand through his hair, Bucky’s frustration with her keeps growing. “I know,” he says, “But I made a mistake. We made a mistake. I know I'm hurting you, Nat, but I can't do this anymore.”   
“She isn't here anymore! She abandoned you. I’m here, I want you,” she purrs moving toward him.   
“No, Natalia,” he says, grabbing her wrists when she tries to touch him. “She left because we made her. Her boyfriend and her best friend went behind her back and betrayed her trust. This is our fault!” he roars.   
She flinches at the volume, shame coating her features. In a small voice she asks,“What are you going to do?”   
Taking a moment to think, he sighs, “I’m going to get her back.” There was no other choice. Letting her go, screwing things up in the first place, was the stupidest mistake he’d ever made. Though Natasha’s eyes were full of tears, she gave an understanding nod as he walked out the door.

Making his way to the kitchen he finds Steve. Things had been strained between the two of them since (Y/N)’s abrupt departure. Steve knew what had happened, and Cap was not happy with Bucky. Loyalty was everything to a man like Steve. The fact that he had been able to betray his best girl… Bucky didn’t blame the man for looking at him like he was.

“Hey, Punk,” he greets, receiving a disinterested grunt in reply. Bucky sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. This could be harder than he thought. “Look, Stevie, I really need your help.”  
Steve lays down the newspaper he was reading and looks up at Bucky. “What could you possibly need my help with? Got someone else on the team to stab in the back?” he grits out between clenched teeth.   
He flinches, the words harsh and cold, coming at him in Steve’s Captain America voice. A tone which once would have never been directed his way. There’s nothing he can do but push on, because without Steve on his side, he’ll never get you back. “I need to find her, Steve. I screwed up big time. Please!” he pleads.   
Cold blue eyes regard him for a long moment before Steve kicks out a chair. “We are going ta need ta talk ta Tony. And you ain’t exactly his favorite person right now.”  
Bucky only nods. He wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite person right now.

 

Your POV: 

You had spent your morning sparring against Logan. It felt good working on your muscles, being able to do anything but think. By focusing only on the movement, when your opponent was going to attack next, how they moved, and what their abilities were, the voices were quietest then. Your mind became completely devoid of thought.   
Charles had been trying to pick at the wall, steadily pulling out genuine reactions. You had smiled when a nervous Logan had brought you, your favorite burger and a bottle of Whiskey, asking if you would like to have dinner. It was sweet. A remnant of the early days of a relationship long past.   
You had felt the lingering hurt of it then. He was your first, well, everything really, and he had fallen hard for another woman, leaving you behind. It had bled into your relationship with Bucky, your insecurities marring most of your time together. But here he was, The Wolverine, trying his best to make amends for past hurts, showering you in attention. Doing his damndest to bring you back to yourself. For the sake of Logan, you were trying to glue the pieces of your broken psych back together.   
You had no idea what his intentions toward you were. If he wanted to try again, your heart wasn't ready for that. But you couldn't bring yourself to distance yourself from him entirely. Logan was your anchor to reality, but, if you were honest with yourself, you were still head over heels for Bucky Barnes. 

You doubt that you will ever get over him. The emotions hidden behind that solid wall were too big, too intense, too… everything to simply walk away from, but try was all you could do. Even when it felt as if you were suffocating under the weight of other people's expectations.   
They looked at you and saw her. Saw Jean. Saw a woman on the brink of breaking. You should be better than Jean, stronger. The weight of her trauma and grief had ultimately led to her destruction, and you were more than aware that you were heading down the same path.   
You were determined not to let Bucky’s betrayal morph you into a darker, more twisted version of yourself. Because, if you did… there was no one in this world that would have the power to stop you.  
Decision made you head to Logan’s quarters. Knocking on the door you wait for him to answer. When he finally appears, you plaster on your biggest smile,stroll into his bedroom, and plop yourself onto his bed. You grin cheekily at him. “So, wolfy,” you bite playfully. “What are we doing tonight?”   
He smirks at you, that signature Logan grin. “I didn't know we had plans, darlin’,” he drawls, causing your grin to widen. His expression turns to one of mild panic.

“C’mon, old man. What will it be?” You laugh at the scandalized look on his face. “Booze and broads?” you say, holding up a finger. “Or booze, pizza, and trashy horror movies?” you ask, adding three more fingers.   
He studies you thoughtfully for a few moments before finally breaking into another wolfish grin. “Booze, pizza, and trashy horror movies it is,” he says, reaching for his phone. 

Yeah. You were going to try.


	8. Logan

The days had flown by in a haze of color. Days filled with sparring and forced laughter, with trying to be the person you once were. You had forced yourself to feel, to smile, to laugh, and you were slowly making progress. Lately, it had been less about forcing and more about living. You could surprise yourself by laughing without having to think that maybe you should first. The numbness was still there, but it was less. The wall was weaker. Day by day you had gotten better, closer to who you once had been.   
Ultimately, you felt ready to go on missions again, which had brought you to your current predicament.

Grabbing your assailant by the hair, you bash his head into the wall twice before dropping him to the floor. Daintily stepping over him, you make your way into the room containing the servers. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, but, as usual, you had encountered more resistance than you thought there would be. Inserting the flash drive into the USB port, you start the download, while straining your senses for any movement outside. Which is why it takes you a minute to notice the intel that is flashing across the screen, currently being downloaded.  
You suck in a sharp breath as you backtrack through the files. What the hell? Panic mounting, you scan the information as quickly as you can. Your movements are jerky as you detach the flash drive, and make your way back to the jet as quickly as you can. A few stragglers get in your way but are dispatched with a flurry of movement or a flick of power.

Stepping onto the jet, you nod at Logan when he asks if you got what you came for. Plopping down in the seat opposite him, you let out a long defeated sigh. 

“You alright kiddo?” he asks worriedly. 

Raising your gaze to his, you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. “No. We have a problem. We need to get back ASAP.” Urgency bleeds into your tone. Logan studies you intently for a moment before nodding once and turning his attention back to flying the jet. 

Thirty minutes later, you hurry through the mansion, desperately needing to get to Charles. You spot him speaking with Storm and send out a mental call. He pauses briefly, nods minutely, and excuses himself from Storm. You trail behind him, fear for the people you love setting off every nerve in your body, making you jumpy. 

“We have a problem,” you say, once the doors to his office have closed behind you. As you plonk your butt into a chair, the exhaustion you feel is palpable, worming its way into your mind. “I found a classified op outlining an attack on the Mansion, Charles.They intend to kidnap me and morph my power into something dark. They want another phoenix.” 

He stares at you for a full ten seconds. “Who does?” he finally asks. 

“Hydra. They want to use me to take out the Avengers. They have plans to launch an assault on the compound and recapture the Winter Soldier.” Pinching the bridge of your nose you forge on. “They want to use us against each other, Charles. They want to use me against James.” Breath hitching in your throat, you try your best to quell the tide of tears threatening to stem over. Not now, you think. You’ve been so numb for so long, you don’t need the return of these feelings now. Not now when feeling nothing makes things easier. If you let the fear in, let the emotions return now, you will break. And if you break… will you ever be able to patch yourself back together?

“We must warn them,” Charles replies. “And we must get you to safety.” 

“I am not sitting idly by while the people I love are in danger, Charles!” you snap. You need to do something, be in the action, or you’ll go crazy. If you’re too still, you’ll feel and lose what little control you’ve gained these last weeks.

“What do you propose we do, (y/n)?” he inquires. 

Steeling yourself for your next words, you breathe deeply before you reply, “I need to go back. I have to help.” He makes to protest but you hold up your hand. “I have to do this, Charlie.” 

Though he sighs, Charles nods able to understand your needs, perhaps even better than you can with how he’s been in your head lately chip, chip, chipping away at your walls.. Placing his fingers against his temple he sends out a call for Logan.   
The silence stretches between you while you await Logan’s arrival, each deeply absorbed in your own thoughts. You hear the tell-tale shuffle of Logan outside the door, and a small smile plays on your lips. He throws open the door without knocking, cigar dangling from his lips, hair in disarray, and grease stains covering him from the waist up.There isn’t an inch of skin on his forearms which isn’t covered in some kind of black stain, and his once white wife-beater is now a murky, sweat stained grey with patches of black where he’d clearly wiped his hands. 

You quirk a brow at him, lips twitching, and playfully quip, “No time for a shower?” 

He cocks a brow and chews on the end of his cigar, the look on his face the one that calls you smartass without needing to voice the word. “Trying to get me outta my clothes already, sweetheart?” he shoots back, a smirk spreading around the mangled cigar. You roll your eyes but Charles clears his throat meaningfully before you get a chance to fire back. 

“I have an errand for you and (Y/n),” he says, putting an end to your bickering. The spoilsport. 

Logan groans knowing instinctively he’s not going to like whatever this errand will be. Finally removing the cigar from his lips, he mutters, “Ah hell.”

Twenty minutes, and one awkward phonecall to Tony later, you head for your shower as Logan heads for his. Stripping off your soiled combat suit, you step under the spray, allowing the hot water to massage some of the tension out of your tight shoulders. You know that going back to the compound will open wounds not yet healed, hurts not yet dealt with, but you had little choice in the matter.   
Staying at the mansion would put the children and your family in danger. Sure they were special children, but they were nowhere near ready to be X-men, and Charles could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean you would let him if leaving made that choice unnecessary. You had to leave, and you had to warn The Avengers. It wasn't an ideal situation, but you had little choice in the matter. Still, if you spent an extra ten minutes hiding out in your shower, not yet ready to face what was coming, who was going to call you on it?  
Stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel you make your way into your bedroom. Logan is leaning against the opposite wall, your bags packed at his feet. You wonder if he even washed the grease off, or if it was just hidden under the long sleeved plaid shirt for no one that dirty could get ready that fast without cutting a few corners.

“I’ll be ten minutes,” you inform him. He grunts his understanding, a very Logan thing to do. It helps you feel the tiniest bit better. Like this is all normal and you can get through what comes next. “Thank you for packing for me.” 

He arches a brow in your direction. “Are you gonna be alright, kid?” he asks hesitantly. “I don't know if going back there is the best decision for ya.” 

Sighing, you step behind a screen to change. “What choice do I have, Logan? Should I let them burn? Become what everyone is afraid I will become?” Zipping up the fly of you jeans you reach for the bra hanging over the top of the screen. “I will not stay out of this fight. I will protect the people I care for. No matter the cost.” Pulling a shirt over your head, you step out from behind the screen. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”   
Your eyes dart to Logan and immediately lock with his. They’re hard, hot with the anger in them. But you can see the fear living there, the desperation hidden behind layers of gruffness and his ‘I don’t care’ attitude which isn’t fooling anyone. The guy’s got a marshmallow center, soft and gooey, and he’s afraid. Afraid that he’ll be called on to do the unthinkable a second time.   
A flash of memory flits through your mind, but instead of Jean standing before him, his claws through her body, it’s you standing on that hill. You shake your head to clear the image. There’s only one problem with his fear. Those claws of his, while painful, can’t kill you.

Nodding slowly, you walk across the room, reminded with every step just what a predator he can be as he straightens up to loom large, seeming to suck the air from the room with his determined scowl. Reaching for his hand, you pass a feather light caress over his knuckles. Over the claws which have taken more lives than either of you care to count. He curls his hand into a fist, pulling it away. A warning growl rises in his chest. An argument is brewing, one you stop by placing your finger against his lips.   
When his silence is guaranteed, you shift your fingers to the stubble of his cheek. Coarse hair, rough beneath your fingertips, leads up into his sideburns. Brushing your thumb over his cheekbone, you feel him relax under the soft touch, a wild thing tamed for the moment and willing to listen. “Logan. I’m not Jean. I won’t fail in this. I’m not her. You’re not going to have to make that sacrifice. Not again.” 

His eyes search yours, holding you there, looking deep for something that you can’t define. When his piercing gaze darkens, the hard eyes filling with an emotion that isn’t fear or anger, but another that you aren’t sure you wish to name, you freeze before the suddenly hunting Wolverine. It shocks you further when his hand closes around the nape of your neck. The other bands across your back, and he jerks you to him. His mouth is on yours, hot, hard, demanding. Searing through you. Kissing you with an intensity long forgotten. When he lifts his head, you inhale hard, your lungs desperate for air. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you stare up at him in shock and can only think, Fuck...

Logan smirks a wide grin and runs his hand through your hair. “Alright, let’s get moving,” he says, grabbing up your bags and striding purposefully from the room with a nonchalance you envy, as if he hadn’t just kissed you breathless. 

He leaves you standing alone, wondering what the hell just happened.


	9. The Return

You can feel the emotion building inside as you step off the jet. You’re minutes away from seeing Natasha again, seconds away from laying eyes on Bucky, the man who tore your heart out. Logan trails closely behind you, his presence bringing you a modicum of comfort. The air had been thick with tension during the flight in, words desperately needing to be said but left unspoken. You’re met by an unknown agent on the helipad who escorts you through the once familiar compound in silence.   
Logan had stepped in front of you the moment you entered the compound, partially obscuring you from prying eyes. He had to have felt the tension radiating off you, the barely concealed dread fighting its way onto your face. You had vowed to stay silent through the meeting, content for Logan to do the talking, and to retreat to the offered rooms as quickly as you could.   
Nearing the meeting room, you can distinctly hear the voices of the assembled Avengers. Bucky’s low bass resounds in your ears, pulling up images of softly murmured words, hot touches, and sweet promises in your head. The wall inside your mind is crumbling with every step you take toward him.  
Stopping briefly before the door which will bring you face to face with the people you had no wish to see again, you take a deep breath and nod for Logan to turn the handle. Swinging the door open, the conversation halts abruptly. All eyes swing in your direction and you steel yourself so as not to flinch. Logan takes a stance which has him appearing larger, a warning growl leaving his chest as he instinctively senses the other predators in the room.   
You clear your throat, shoving Logan lightly at the small of his back. He moves cautiously forward, fists clenched tightly as he scans the room. Your eyes are downcast, trying frantically not to see Bucky. But it’s no use. His soft voice caresses your ears as he calls your name. Eyes shut tightly, you let out a whimper, pain lancing through your mind when you feel the last remnants of the self-imposed wall falling down.   
He walks toward you, arms outstretched, seemingly to embrace you; to hold you once again. You take a step forward, the pull so strong you you can't ignore it. You need to feel him again, to breathe in his scent, to hear that velvet voice wash over you once more. Your breathing is coming out in short, fast pants, fingers twitching with the need to reach out and touch him..   
Logan growls once, halting your movement by harshly pulling you backward and shoving you behind him. His touch grounds you, lifting the fog from your mind only now noticing that he has unsheathed his claws. They glint maliciously in the fluorescent light. It sobers you instantly and you reach for his hand, brushing a light touch to the inside of his wrist. The tension tightening the muscle in his shoulders relax minutely. His breathing evens out as he slowly retracts his claws, leaving the middle one to retract last about which you say nothing and chance a glance Bucky’s direction.   
His eyes are hard and cold, hands balled tightly into fists. He’s staring intently at Logan, challenging him, lips curled into a snarl. You know this is about to escalate. You can feel the hatred they share for each other. The hurt. The pain.   
Tugging gently at Logan's wrist, you pull him backwards. He relents and takes a step, the venomous look never leaving his face, until he looks down at you. A protective hand is suddenly splayed across your ribs, the move a possessive on that reminds you of the things left unspoken on your flight here.   
Sighing you turn your attention to the sergeant. “James,” you finally acknowledge.   
His eyes snap to yours, mouth opening and closing, searching for something to say. He settles on your name. “(Y/N)”   
That one word, so filled with emotion, you feel as though it will suffocate you. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Ducking your head, you trying to make yourself smaller, needing out from under all this scrutiny. Logan comes to your rescue.   
“Can we get on with this?” he asks, irritation bleeding into his tone. He pulls you toward an empty seat and forces you into it, choosing to stand behind you, arms folded across his chest. The look on his face a warning no one can fail to understand.   
Steve, having come to his feet with the near brawl, sits down in the closest chair. “Let’s get this meeting started,” he replies as everyone settles. 

You drift, barely paying attention to the debate raging around you. That horrible voice has been needling you for the past half hour. Begging you, pleading with you to attack. Avenge. To take revenge on the ones who broke you. It’s been getting steadily louder every time you chance a glance at Natasha. White hot rage sears a path through your veins, urging you to kill. You could. With a just a flick of your fingers or quirk of your brow you could easily take out the one who hurt you. But you bite down on the rising rage, and try to focus on the conversation happening around you.   
Scraping chairs catch your attention. Logan taps you lightly on the shoulder, and you realize you’ve missed the entire thing. You stand abruptly, needing to get out, get away from these people. Logan's attention is caught by Steve, leaving Bucky free to grab your hand. The touch sends you into overdrive.   
“(Y/N),” he pleads. “Talk ta me.” His free hand cups your chin, forcing you to look at him. Then, he gently runs his thumb across your lip. His eyes are soft, the blue so deep, as he opens his mouth to speak.   
“Back off, bub!” Logan's voice cuts through the moment, sending you plummeting back to reality.   
“An’ who the fuck are ya ta tell me what I can and can't do?” comes Bucky’s angry retort.   
Logan harshly drags you back, thrusting you out of the way as animalistic growls leaves him. “I’m the guy who's gonna rearrange that pretty face of yours,” he replied mockingly. His claws singing as they reappear.   
He takes a hard swing at Bucky who ducks out of the way, aiming a kick at Logan's unguarded legs. Logan grunts and tries to slash a cut into Bucky’s side, but is blocked by Bucky’s metal arm. A punch connects with Logan's face and jerks his head back, sending him careening into the conference table. He spits blood across it and wipes his mouth. A smirk plays on Logan’s lips as he pushes up from the table and launches a full body attack at Bucky, who is woefully unprepared for an angry Wolverine. Bucky falters under the onslaught and you can feel yourself break at the thought of them killing each other.   
Rage boils over, lifting you off the ground as the power flows out of you. Hair whipping across your face, a hurricane surrounds you, and you don't feel human anymore. A hollow laugh forces its way out of you, causing Logan to snap his head around. His eyes are wide with fear.   
Lifting your hand, you fling Bucky through the opposite wall, immune to the pained whimpering noises that leave him when he makes contact with the ground.   
Logan is moving toward you, his skin burning with every step. “Come back,” he pleads, eyes filled with emotion. “This isn't you! You are not Jean!”   
You can hear his mind shouting... don’t make me… not again… but it means little. Laughing harder, you extend your power toward him, cutting at his flesh, the darkness of what you are seeping out of you in waves. The rest of the Avengers can do nothing but cower under the strength of your might and you revel in their fear.  
“Come back to me, (Y/N). Fight the dark,” he says in a small voice, pain filling every syllable.   
Arriving before you, the weight of his plea snakes it’s way into your mind, wrapping itself around your consciousness. Memories of that fateful day when Logan had to kill the one he loved has you faltering long enough to drop toward the floor, giving Logan the opportunity to do what he must and shove his claws through you. Pain rips through your body, bringing you back to yourself, reigning in the insatiable rage you felt just moments ago.   
“Logan,” you whisper, vision tingeing black at the edges.   
Tears are streaming down his face as he clutches you tightly to his chest. His voice is hoarse, no louder than a murmur, repeating “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over, until your vision goes completely dark and you hear no more.


	10. Waking up

You wake slowly, a quickly fading dream clinging to your subconscious mind. Shifting slightly, you pry open your eyes and come face-to-face with a distraught Logan. A frown graces your features as you take in his appearance. “What happened?” you croak, voice hoarse.   
“You changed,” comes his simple reply.  
You swallow tightly, aware of the anger simmering below the surface. “Oh my god,” you breath out. “What did I do?” Panic is rising inside you and you scramble upright. “Who did I hurt?” you ask tightly. 

Logan pauses briefly, contemplating his choice of words, before continuing calmly, “No one.” You look at him in disbelief, causing him to sigh. “There ain’t nothin but bumps and bruises, but you scared the shit outta us. Especially them. They ain’t seen that before like I have.”   
A flash of memory makes itself known and you gasp. “Did you..did you kill me?” You look at him wide eyed. The guilt passing across his face and the red rimmed eyes giving him away. “Oh, Logan.” Reaching toward him, you attempt to pull him into an embrace but he dodges you. “I’m sorry, I don't know what happened.. I was just so angry..”   
He whirls around, anger apparent in his demeanour. “You were angry? You were angry! Don’t you get it, (Y/N)? I killed ya! I don’t care that it wasn't permanent! I had to kill ya!” he grits out. “I had to hold ya in my arms, feel the blood pouring out of ya and know that I did that to ya!”  
Standing on shaky legs, you move toward him. “You could never truly hurt me, Logan,” you remind him gently. “It’s going to take a lot more than your claws to do me in.” Running your hand up his chest, you look him in the eye. “I’m here. I’m fine.”   
He pulls you closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His hands slip underneath your shirt, tracing patterns into your skin. He kisses a trail up your neck, nipping gently at your ear. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your skin.   
You attempt to, but all that leaves you is a gasp when he nips harder at the flesh of your neck. Your hands instinctively go to his hair, tug lightly, bringing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. It’s all clashing teeth and tangling tongues, a wild mating between two desperate people. A lance of desire surges straight through you, setting you moaning into Logan's mouth. 

You hear him unsheathe his claws, feel the smooth slide of them as they cut through the flimsy top you are wearing, exposing your braless form to the cool air. He nips at your collarbone. Kisses his way into the valley between your breasts. Moving toward a nipple, he circles the hardening nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. A content growl vibrates out of him as he runs a callused hand to your covered core.   
He gently hooks a finger into the lace material, running it slowly beneath the elastic, earning a garbled moan of his name. He smirks, and you can feel it against your skin before he lets go of your nipple with a wet pop. The lace skims down your legs, following the trailing path of his fingers as he pushes them down until they fall without resistance to puddle around your ankles. His eyes are heavy lidded, guarded but you can still see the want, the lust he’s barely keeping under control.   
When he inhales deeply, it makes him moan. “So wet.” His voice is low, velvety, the deep bass of it resonating through you. “I can smell you, you’re so wet for me.” His hands stroke upward, hot and hard over your thighs, coming at last to the apex between them. He runs a teasing finger up your slit, circling your clit slowly.  
You arch into his touch, your breasts brushing against his clothed chest, the roughness dragging over your sensitive nipples. Impatiently, you let out a surge of power, pushing him away from you a step. He looks mildly startled, his dark eyes searching your face questioningly, wondering if you’re rejecting this, rejecting him. Understanding dawns when you fumble with his pants , pulling them and his underwear down around his knees.Reaching for his bobbing cock, pre-cum beading at the tip, you stroke him languidly in a firm, corkscrew motion, eliciting a grunt of pleasure from him.  
“Fuck,” he moans as you run a thumb over his slit, spreading the wetness along his tip.   
Biting your bottom lip, you make to sink down onto your knees, but he stops you mid bend, causing you to look at him in the manner he had you earlier. He smiles a wicked grin and jerks his shirt up over his head, tossing it away. His hands return to run up your arms, eliciting a soft moan. Your hands find their way to his sculpted core, sliding up to trace the defined lines of muscle, out over his pecs and finally link behind his neck.   
He pulls you to him, his hot length rests tantalizingly against your stomach. A deceptively soft growl ripples in his chest, vibrating through yours, and you sigh with the pleasure you feel. He bends his knees and grips you by the back of the thighs, lifting and spreading you open in one swift motion. Settling your legs around his waist, he lays you back on the bed and runs his cock through your wet lips teasingly, thrusting his hips slightly at every pass over your clit.   
You need him inside you. The desire to forget is threatening to overwhelm you. You know that the repercussions of this will be devastating, but you need this. He needs this. He needs to know that you are whole. Safe. Alive. Stalling his movements with your legs you whimper, “Please!” stuffing as much emotion as you can into that one word.   
He seems to understand because he guides himself to your entrance. The thick head glides through your tight walls, pressing deep, stretching and burning deliciously thanks to your forced abstinence. He halts briefly to let you adjust, his breath hot against your shoulder. He turns his face into your throat and bites you gently beneath your ear. It leaves you breathless, scratching frantically at his back, leaving long angry marks in your wake that heal as quickly as they are made, and he chuckles darkly in a tone that has a rush of wetness bathing his cock. 

“Move,” you beg, only to have him bite you again before he obliges, setting a slow, precise pace that has you seeing stars at every thrust. “Logan,” you moan, the wet slap of skin filling the near silent room. Logan's growls pierce through the haze of desire coursing through you. Your entire being has focused down to the pleasure rippling from your core, the way his body presses you into the mattress, the hot, heavy weight of him inside you, and the teeth that keep returning over and over to your throat. You’re coming undone at the seams, back arching off the bed. The last few months of worry and regret and hate flow out of you with every upward thrust. “Oh,” you moan, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.   
He shifts slightly, the new angle driving directly into the secret bundle of nerves and tugs at your earlobe. “You gonna come for me, darlin’?”   
It sets you screaming, panting, whimpering, clenching around him. He must feel how close you are because he reaches for your clit, rubbing frantically. His hips stutter the harder your walls contract. The euphoria is building inside you, and with a few short, sharp thrusts you come screaming around him, chanting his name like it’s the only word you remember how to say.   
“Fuck!” he snarls, pulling out of you. Stroking himself in harsh pulls, he works himself through to the finish and with a long drawn out growl, his release sprays over your breasts.   
You don’t care. You’re exhausted. The events of the last 24 hours have finally caught up with you.   
Logan retreats to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with a warm, wet washcloth to rid you of the evidence of your time together. He cleans you up tenderly as you drift in and out of consciousness. The last thing you remember is Logan pulling your unresisting body into his, and placing a loving kiss on your temple as you succumb to the oblivion of sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Waking up alone, Logan nowhere to be found, has your heart plummeting. He had obviously snuck out during the night, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of the previous evening.   
Conflicting emotions raged inside you, hurt being most prevalent among them. You resign yourself to the stunning realization that you were, once again, betrayed by a man for whom you had feelings. Shame coats your insides as you make to get out of bed.   
You freeze when a grumbling Logan throws open the bedroom door, carrying a tray of breakfast foods. Momentarily stunned, you gape at him. He smirks at your stunned face.   
“Close your mouth you're gonna attract flies,” he chuckles, smiling widely.   
“You brought me breakfast?” you ask in wonder.   
“Well.. ya. You had a day yesterday an I thought..” he trails off when anger flares in his eyes. “You didn't think I’d run out on ya, did ya?”   
“You were gone when I woke up. It wouldn’t be the first time, Logan.” You remind him gently.   
“Are ya fucking kidding me (Y/N)? I thought we were past that!”   
Wrapping the sheet around yourself, you rip it from the bed and get to your feet. “Past it? Past you abandoning me for another woman? Or past the fact that you did it two weeks after you proposed?” Tears welling in your eyes, you swipe at them angrily. “No, Logan! I’m not past it. I’m angry and confused. I don't know what you want from me!” Exasperated, you sink back down on the bed.   
Logan sets down the tray on the dresser and takes a seat beside you. Running a hand through his hair, he sighs. “I know ya don't trust me to not hurt ya again, but I’m not the same man I was. All I want is a chance to do it right. Make things right. I’ll do anything for ya. I just want a chance.”   
Biting your lower lip, you contemplate your next words carefully. “I’m not over Bucky, Logan.” His shoulders stiffen slightly so you take his hand, needing him to listen before he reacts. “But I want to be. I don’t know what I'm feeling right now, but I know that I feel something for you, and I want to try. You’re good for me. You keep me grounded.”   
He stares at you for what feels like an eternity.   
“You don't trust me,” he states matter of factly, “an that's alright. I’m gonna prove ya wrong.” He squeezes your fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles before getting up to collect the tray with breakfast. “Now eat. You have to face the others eventually.”   
Sighing, you resign yourself to the fact that you are going to have to deal with Bucky and Natasha. It was time to clear the air. 

 

Leaving Logan to his own devices, you exit the room in search of the team. You had to apologise for losing control, for scaring them, for hurting them. It was a slippery slope you were on, and you had to rein in the darkness that was threatening to overwhelm you.   
You are so deep in thought, you don't see Bucky standing in front of you. Walking straight into his muscled chest with a faint ‘oomph’ he grabs your arms to steady you, concern painting his face.   
“Are ya alright?” he asks checking you for injuries.   
“I’m fine, are you?” you reply, noting his bandaged shoulder and the various scrapes on his face.   
“I’m alrigh’. Can we talk?” he asks.   
Nodding, you follow him to your once shared bedroom. Pictures of you still coat the walls.   
“Are ya with him?” he asks, tone laced with steel.   
You snap your attention to him. “I don’t know,” you answer truthfully.   
“Do you..” he clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “Do you love him?”   
You take in his appearance. Dark circles around his eyes, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t know,” you reply a second time. “It’s complicated.”   
A look of relief flits across his face. “Do you love me?” he asks, hope shining in his eyes.   
“Yes, James, I still love you.” The smile that graces his face is beautiful to behold, but you harden your heart against it. “But that does not mean we can be together. Trust is a fickle thing. It takes years to build and a second to destroy.”   
His smile slips off his face. “I can make it right! I know I can!”   
You sigh. Picking up a photo depicting you and Bucky staring lovingly at each other, you show it to him. “No, James, you can't. I may love you. I may want you. I may even miss you, but this was over long before you decided that Natasha was who you wanted.” Setting the photo down, you wipe at your eyes before continuing. “You chose not to confide in me. You chose to shoulder whatever was going on in your mind by yourself. You chose the comfort of another woman over me. That was the single most painful thing I have ever experienced. You were my one, the person I relied on, and you shattered me. There's no coming back from that.”   
Tears stream down his face as he begs, “Please. Please don't do this.”   
Feeling your heart break all over again, you turn to leave. “I’m sorry, Buck, but it's over. You and I... are over,” you say as you make your way to the door.   
“No!” he yells, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you to him. “No,” he repeats gently, burying his face in your hair, taking in deep breaths like he needs you to breathe. “Don't leave me, not again,” he sobs into your hair.  
Pushing him gently away from you, you run a finger over his cheek, through the tears that mirror the ones on your own. “I’m sorry, Buck. But for the sake of my sanity, it's over. It's done. I can’t be with you anymore.” You walk away as he watches you leave.   
Disbelief and anguish surround him in a thick fog that has you choking.


	12. Chapter 12

Roaming the halls in search of Steve and the rest of the team, you sense her before you see her.   
“Come out, Natalia,” you sneer.   
She materializes out of a dark corner, her trademark smirk on her face. “(Y/N),” she greets.   
“What do you want?” you demand.   
“I want him,” she answers simply. “You are in the way.”   
You groan inwardly. How could a woman who was touted as the world’s greatest spy be so damn dense?  
“You are clearly unstable, (Y/N).I won't let you destroy him,” she emphasises the last part as she lunges at you.   
Sighing, you stop her mid attack with nothing more than the flick of your wrist. “Honestly, I am so fucking done with the lot of you,” you say tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as she flails around in mid air. “If you want him so bad, go get him.”   
“Problem?”   
Logan’s voice rumbles behind you, sending you jumping nearly a foot in the air. Whirling around, a protesting Natasha forgotten momentarily you yell, “Jesus!” while clutching at your chest. “Why is everyone sneaking up on me today?”   
Logan chuckles wryly. “What’s up with the floating broad?”   
You snicker softly. “She thought she could attack me. I decided to prove her wrong.”   
He sighs out your name. “Put her down,” he orders, grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you to his chest. “I have a better idea for how you could use your powers, and they don’t include no dumbass redhead,” he growls into your ear, lowering his voice to whisper incredibly naughty suggestions.   
Giggling softly, surprised by his action, you set Natasha down on the floor. Turning toward her, you smile a full baring of teeth. “Come at me again and I will smack seven kinds of snot out of you. If he wants to be with you, he will tell you. Trying to get rid of me is not going to help your case.” You walk away hand in hand with Logan, leaving a terrified Natasha to contemplate your parting words.  
“You alrigh?” Logan asks as he leads you toward the common room.   
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to go home. I should never have come back here,” you answer truthfully.   
He nods. Taking a deep breath he says, “Hey, I really wanted to talk to ya about-”  
He’s cut off mid sentence as alarms start to blare in the compound. F.R.I.D.A.Y informs you that you that the compound is under attack.   
“We have to find the others!” you yell over the screaming sirens. Pulling Logan along the hallway, you try to detect any kind of foreign minds.  
Rounding the corner, you run into a stray Hydra agent. Reflexively aiming a punch at his throat, he doubles over gasping for air. You follow it up with a knee to the solar plexus while simultaneously bringing your elbow down onto the crown of his head. He crumples to the floor. You have no idea if he’s dead or not.   
Logan grunts his approval, claws out. The Wolverine taking over, he takes a defensive stance as approaching footsteps catch you attention. You form a ball of power, ready to hurl it at the person who's unlucky enough to round the corner. When that person just happens to be Bucky, you sigh in relief as he scans you both.   
“We good?” he calls   
“All good,” Logan replies as the three of you hurry toward Tony's lab.   
“How did they get in?” you wonder out loud.   
“I wish I fuckin knew,” Bucky replies ushering you into the elevator.   
Logan growls slightly as Bucky’s hand makes contact with your lower back. You send him a warning glare, and he looks momentarily sheepish. It fades quickly, replaced with his usual confident swagger as he steps in after you. The ride up is silent, tension thick and uncomfortable. You practically sprint out when the elevator stops at the correct floor, scanning briefly for hostile forces.   
Finding none you enter the lab where the Avengers team is gathered, looking slightly worse for wear. You quirk a brow at a grumbling Tony.   
“Well, this looks cozy,” you quip.   
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “What can I say, darling? There ain’t no party like a couple of Hydra agents trying to murder you while you try and upgrade your suits,” he remarks dryly.   
You chuckle briefly. It’s such a Stark thing to say. “Are they taken care of?”   
Steve snorts, bruised and bloodied, from the corner. “All of them who got in were taken out, but that doesn't mean they won't try again,” he says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  
You can’t tell whether his discomfort is pain related, or because you freaked him out so badly, or if it’s the tension radiating between Bucky and Logan that’s making him uncomfortable.   
“They really have a hard on for you and the tin can,” Tony remarks thoughtfully, drawing your attention off Steve.  
Logan bares his teeth snarling, “Over my dead fuckin’ body!” His claws make an involuntarily reappearance.   
“Alright, wolf man. Calm your shit. We can sort this out,” Tony quips.   
You make a disapproving noise at Tony’s blasé attitude. He looks momentarily guilty before winking at you. You roll your eyes at the billionaire's antics.   
Clapping your hands together you cheerfully say, “Well, I guess we'll just have to take them out first.” The entire room regards you skeptically.   
Bucky, being the first to pipe up, asks sarcastically, “And how do you expect to do that?”   
You turn and give Logan a predatory smile, one which makes him wince.   
“Ah hell,” he mutters before reaching for his phone. Dialing a number, he grumbles under his breath as it rings three times before Charles answers.   
“Professor,” Logan drawls. “We got a problem… again.” He listens to Charles for a full ten seconds before saying, “Alright I’ll let them know.” He shuts off the phone and turns to regard Tony. “Ya better get the spare rooms ready, bub.”   
Tony’s looks at him in mild panic.   
Logan smirks, a cigar appearing from his pocket. He strikes a match and lights it, drawing in a long plume of smoke. He breathes it out and chuckles darkly. “The X-Men are coming.”   
Hope flares in your chest. With a full team of X-Men and the entire Avengers Team in house, Hydra didn't stand a chance.


	13. Chapter 13

Logans POV:  
Watching you embrace the Captain sends jealousy roaring through him. He knows it means nothing. Your feelings for Steve nothing more than friendship, he can tell by your scent. Still, his mind roars, Mine!  
All it takes is a cock of your head to the side to know you’ve heard him. Eavesdropping minx, he thinks, making sure the words are full of affection. You take a step back, allowing him to relax.   
Pulling you toward him, he nuzzles into your hair. God he’s missed this, missed you. Your scent, your taste, the feel of you as you move beneath him. Your soothing presence when the nightmares take him and he screams in the middle of the night. With you, he knows, even in the worst of the dreams, the hardest of nights, should the unthinkable happen, should he put his claws through you, you’ll be alright. You won’t have to drain him like Rogue. You won’t die like… Jean.   
He can't let you go again. Never should have walked away in the first place. To lose you now, after finally getting you back, it would rip out his soul. Jean had shattered his heart, but you. Losing you again, would destroy him.   
Wrapping his arms around your waist, completely ignoring the other people in the room, he takes a deep breath in. A content growl rumbles through his chest as he grips you tighter. You smell so good. Like light and life. Like home.  
“Mine.”   
The word comes out half purr, half growl, all possession. It causes a fetching pink tint to grace your cheeks, and has him chuckling heartily. Slipping his fingers underneath your shirt, he traces simple circles into your flesh. So soft, so silky smooth beneath the roughness of his calloused hands.   
When you turn to face him, voice low and full of murmured warning, saying only, “Logan,” it unleashes the feral nature within him. The beast that wishes to claim, mark, possess every part of you. That one word has him growling in anticipation, a protective hand pulling you closer to him. Looking up, he sweeps his hard gaze around the room, locking eyes with every male member there.   
“Logan!”   
Your chastising voice snaps him out of his daze, and he smiles for you, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry,” he mumbles. The answering smile you grace him with has him melting into an adamantium puddle. He knows he’s a goner. He ain’t never giving you up, even if he had to burn the world to the ground to keep you by his side.   
He has a lot of making up to do. He hurt you when he left you for Jean, but he never stopped loving you. He dreamt of you nearly every night for years, wishing he could take it back, have you back.   
So fuckit! He was gonna keep what had finally returned to him. The Wolverine would fight to the bitter end, and Bucky Barnes could suck his dick.

 

Bucky’s Pov

He watches as you seem to melt into the wolf's touch, giggling softly when Logan whispers something in your ear. He can barely watch, barely breathe.   
He knows that could be him. He knows that this is his fault. That he pushed you too this. That you not being in his arms is entirely his fault, but he still can't bear to watch. Fists clenched tightly at his side as he hears, “Mine,” leave Logan's mouth.   
You’d admitted you loved him still. You’d admitted that you didn't know how you felt toward Logan. But with that little display, with how you let the scruffy stranger touch you, it was pretty fucking obvious.   
Why couldn't you forgive him? Why couldn’t you see how much this hurt? How sorry he was?  
He would be better. He could make amends if you’d only let him. He would treat you the way you deserved, never look at another woman again if that was what it took.   
He can't keep watching. It is making him physically ill to see you in his arms.  
Turning to leave, he catches the sympathetic look on Steve’s face. Not wanting his pity, he strides from the room, accidently walking into a disheveled Natasha. She opens her mouth to speak, but he shakes his head unable to deal with more drama. Picking her up bodily, he deposits her beside him, leaving her standing alone outside Tony’s lab. 

Your Pov

Disengaging yourself from Logan's possessive embrace, you look toward Tony. “We will need to start training together ASAP. The X-men and Avengers have different styles of fighting. We will need to figure out how to work together.”   
Tony nods once, looking to Cap for confirmation.   
“I don't know how well this is going to work (Y/N). There are...tensions,” Steve says rather diplomatically.  
You scrutinize him for a full minute before shaking your head. “People need to get over that. This isn't about who gets the girl, Steven. This is about saving Bucky’s butt before Hydra gets a hold of him again.” You take a fortifying breath. “And saving mine. If you’d prefer, Logan and I can leave and deal with this on our own. I am not forcing you to work with me, with us, but this is your best chance.”   
Steve has a red tinge of embarrassment on his face. “I just don't want conflict,” he mumbles.  
“Too late, Stevie. That ship has sailed. It’s never going to go back to the way it was. I’m not going to come back to the Avengers, and I am not going to get back together with Bucky. This is the new normal.”   
He sighs but nods.   
Logan lets out a wry chuckle, and you whirl to face him, prodding him in the chest. “And you!” you glare. “You need to stop with this possessive Alpha male bullshit. I am not property, Logan.”   
He rubs at his neck sheepishly, a lopsided grin on his face. “Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles.   
Satisfied, you advance on Tony. “And you stop with the ‘witty’ remarks. Honestly, it's like working with overgrown man children!” you say, throwing your hands in the air. “I am so done with this shit!” Frustration pushing you into a tangent. “I will whip every one of your butts if this shit doesn't end now. Do we understand each other?”   
A few awkward moments of foot shuffling commence before they all mumble, “Yes, (Y/n)’s.”   
You nod, satisfied with their apparent cooperation, and stride out the room, plainly ignoring the voice in your head telling you to destroy the redhead as you pass her. She is seemingly frozen to the spot, chaotic thoughts wiping through her head that you ignore. She’s no longer your concern.   
“Logan,” you yell over your shoulder before you go too far. His head appears around the doorway. “We need to go greet the others, they should be here in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you on the roof.”   
He nods in agreement, smiling all the way. “Alrigh’, darlin’. I'll meet you up there. Iron guy wants to check out my claws,” he replies as he retreats back into the lab.   
Dread instantly courses through you. You do not want to know the havoc Tony Stark and Logan Howlett could unleash on the world if they ever decided to work together for an extended period of time. “Don’t keep me waiting, wolfman!” you warn, hoping it will get him out of that room sooner rather than later.


	14. Chapter 14

“This is a terrible idea,” Storm remarks as she watches a smirking Logan circle Bucky on the training mat. 

“I know, but it needs to be done. They need to learn to work together,” you reply, watching as Bucky lands a particularly nasty ariel kick to the top of Logan's head. 

“They are going to kill each other. Logan looks ready to murder,” she says giggling nervously.

You sigh. “Dammit I know, but it needs to happen.” 

Bucky is not holding back, using every ounce of training he has to get the upper hand on Logan, and he is succeeding. You can't tell if Logan is letting him win or is genuinely faltering under the onslaught of the winter soldier. But, the wolfman is healing as fast as Bucky is opening him up, which seems to be making the former winter soldier all the madder.

“Cap,” you call. “This needs to stop, put me in with Buck.” 

Steve’s eyes widen momentarily before he nods and calls a halt to the fight. “Alright, change partners. Buck you're with (Y/N), pal.” 

Logan's eyes snap to yours, a warning clear in them. He starts to protest, but a vicious glare shuts him up. 

Stepping onto the mat, you nod at Bucky. He grunts in greeting, not bothering to meet your gaze. He lets loose with a combination of punches, landing a solid hit to your ribs. 

You hiss in pain before retaliating with a knee to the stomach and an uppercut to the jaw. The fight is a dance, beautiful to watch. You know each other's movements intimately, syncing naturally with each other. It’s a painful reminder of betrayal. Of what could have been if he had done things differently. 

He has a hand on your throat, slight pressure there, his other hand holding you tightly around the waist, ready to slam you to the mat. You whimper at the familiar action. It pulls memories to the surface of hot nights and sensual, stroking hands, and you arch into him.

Bucky freezes, eyes wide. “Fuck,” he mutters out loud. 

Your body betrays you in front of the entire team, causing you to flush in anticipation like you once would have. Sucking in a steadying breath, you elbow Bucky in the stomach. Twisting out of the hold, you head butt him on the nose, stagger back, and land a kick to his side, watching as he falls to the floor. 

Ignoring the eyes of everyone in the room. You make your way to where a pissed off Logan is glaring at you, murder written clearly on his face. Guilt courses through you as you come to a standstill in front of him. “Logan,” you whisper.

He pulls you roughly from the room, coming to a halt outside one of the many supply closets littering the compound. 

“What. the. Fuck. was. That!” he spits out, “You were dry humping your ex in front of the entire team!” 

Not knowing what to say you settle on, “I’m sorry.. It was familiar.. I just responded.” 

Logan's face hardens with anger. Lips curled into a snarl, he shoves you through the supply closet door, locking it firmly behind him. He pushes you roughly into a wall, calloused hand wrapping around your throat.   
It sends heat spiking through you. Lust roars to life, and you moan for him, wetness gathering between your thighs.

“You are mine,” he grits out. “Mine alone,” he reiterated as he claims your lips in a bruising passionate kiss. 

Breaking away from your lips he drops to his knees. Yanking down the work out pants you are wearing, he forces you to step out of them. His hands are hard and ruthless, hooking a leg over his shoulders. He spreads you open, growling at the wetness he finds. 

“Who do you belong to?” he growls as he licks a languid stripe along your opening, avoiding your clit. 

You gasp out, hands flying to his hair yanking roughly. “Please, Logan,” you whimper, as he continues his ministrations avoiding where you need it most. 

“Who do you belong to?” he says circling the outside of your clit. 

“o..oh god,” you moan, canting your hips into his face. He places a hand on your lower stomach, forcing you to keep still. “Logan!” you whine, desperately needing relief. 

He chuckles darkly. “Tell me who you belong to darlin’, and I'll give you exactly what you want.” He moans, his nostrils flaring, breathing in your scent. 

“You!” you all but scream. “I’m yours! Logan, please!” you beg. 

Satisfied, he sucks your clit into his mouth. Pushing one thick finger inside you, he massages at your walls. It nearly drives you over the edge, the conflicting sensations driving you mad with desire. Logan moans against you as you tug harshly at his hair. 

“Stop!” you moan out. 

He disengages completely, looking at you in mild panic. You simply smile and help him to his feet, staring directly into his eyes. 

“I want to taste you, baby,” you say, voice husky with arousal. “I want your thick cock in my mouth.” 

His eyes darken, turn almost black. “Oh fuck,” he all but moans, fumbling with his sweatpants. 

You sink to your knees, yanking his pants down roughly. Taking his thick length in your hand, you place small kitten licks to his tips. His loud grunts urge you onward. Engulfing him entirely, you trace the thick vein at the underside of his shaft with your tongue. Stroking the base of his cock with a firm grip, your free hand weighs his heavy balls. Giving a light squeeze every few seconds, you turn him into a moaning mess above you. His hands tangle in your long locks, guiding your head. 

“Jus’ like that darlin’,” he says as he hits the back of your throat, holding you there briefly. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth?” he purrs giving an experimental thrust into your mouth.

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his pulsating length. He’s always been a dominant lover. Demanding. It arouses the hell out of you.

“That's it, darlin’,” he moans as he starts thrusting in earnest. 

Your jaw is aching, eyes burning with tears, legs slick with your own arousal, but you couldn't care less. It feels so fucking good, and you couldn't stop even if you tried. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Logan mutters, pulling you off him roughly. You whine in protest. He chuckles, “Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Twirling you around, he shoves you face first into the wall, kicking your legs apart. He enters you in one swift motion, not bothering to give you time to adjust. He fucks into you roughly, unrelenting, growling with every thrust. The angle has you seeing stars. You're a begging sobbing mess and Logan revels in it. 

Pulling you back by the hair, he places a hand on your throat, whispering in your ear, “Mine... only mine.” A particularly sharp thrust has you coming undone around him, spasming and arching against him. “And I don't share what's mine.” He growls loudly when he comes, long thick spurts coating your walls, panting harshly in your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, nipping affectionately at your earlobe. 

“I know,” you reply as an unexpected wave of emotion flares in your chest. Logan pulls out of you, handing you your clothing. Understanding rips through you and leaves you reeling, breath caught in your throat. 

Logan looks at you with concern. “You alrigh’? Did I hurt you?” 

You stare at him in disbelief. “Oh..Oh my god.” 

Logan strides toward you, checking you roughly for any sign of injury. “What? What is it? Where are ya hurt?” he mutters, panicked. 

“Logan,” you breathe out. His concerned eyes train to yours. “I..I think I love you, too.”


	15. Chapter 15

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.  
Logan Stares at you stunned. “Wha?” he mutters.   
“Well, look at you. The almighty Wolverine at a loss for words?” you tease, trying to defuse the tension.   
He grips you by the back of the neck, resting his forehead against yours. “Do you mean it?” he asks.   
“Yeah, I do. I love you, Logan.” The answering smirk you receive has you rolling your eyes. “Alright, wolfy, let's get going. Tony is going to be pissed we skipped out.”   
Logan chuckles darkly as he pulls open the door, checking to make sure the coast is clear. It isn’t. “Barnes,” you hear him mutter.  
Freezing at the name, you begin to panic. How long was he out there? How much had he heard?  
“You two done?” comes the steel hard voice of Bucky.   
Regret makes a momentary appearance when the pain reflected in his eyes claws at your insides. Fuck.   
“Tony received intel and needs everyone in the meeting room in twenty.” His voice is emotionless. Winter Soldier mode saving him from further hurt.   
“Bucky,” you whisper. His eyes seem to look into your soul.   
“I don't need explanations, (Y/N),” is his reply, his face hardening more. “You aren’t...mine,” he spits out.   
Logan draws himself to his full height. “Listen bub, this ain’t none of your business, so fuck off before we go another round,” he grits out.   
Placing a gentle hand on Logan's forearm you address Bucky. “I’m sorry this is hurting you, James,” you say as gently as you can, his face softening slightly at the use of his first name. “But I told you what you and I had is over.”   
He snorts out a laugh. “Ya might want to tell your body, baby girl. The way you responded ta me out there told a whole other story.” He smirks at you.   
Logan snarls at the chocolate haired man. Taking a step forward, you stop the inevitable fight before it can begin.   
“I’m trying here, Barnes, but I swear to all that is holy if you speak to me like that again I will stop playing nice!” Prodding him in the chest you continue. “This is on you. Us not being together is on you! Accept it! I am not going to melt into your arms because you said sorry! I am not going to come running back because you feel bad!” Tears make an unwanted appearance in your eyes. “I am with Logan!” You enunciate every word, trying to get it to sink into his thick skull. “You and I will never be together again. It is over!” you say as you push past him. “And another thing, keep your red headed bitch on a leash!” you spit, eyes turning red with anger. “I am done playing these stupid ass games with the both of you.” Turning on your heel, you stride away from both men, trying unsuccessfully to keep a lid on your flaring anger.  
Muttering profanities under your breath, you ignore the wolf whistles filtering to you from various Avengers and X-men. You had, undoubtedly, been louder than you thought, and it had you groaning, stalking toward your bedroom, fists clenched at your sides. 

“Sestra,” comes Wanda accented voice. 

You stop and let out a sob, running to the red witch, and flinging your arms around her.   
“I missed you, sestra,” she murmurs as she rocks you back and forth, not saying anything else as you break down in the middle of a hallway.   
“They are men,” Wanda comments. “Men are often foolish and stupid.”

After you had finished crying, you had moved into your room. Wanda was currently sitting on the sink while you took a shower. 

“They are going to have pissing contests until you leave,” she chuckles dryly. “That Logan though.. His mind is dark.” 

You snort. “He’s been through a lot, but he’s still a good man.” 

She smiles softly. “I did not say he was bad. I meant that he has so much pain in his past, it causes me pain to be near him.” 

You nod in understanding as you reach for a towel. “I know, it’s a lot to take in when you are unaccustomed to it. Eventually it becomes background noise.” She regards you skeptically. You laugh out loud. “I promise, it was way worse a couple of years ago. He’s changed so much.” 

She smiles widely at you. “You are in love with him,” she states matter of factly. 

“Yes, yes I am,” you reply seriously before you and Wanda burst into a fit of giggles. 

Ten minutes later, you are strolling toward the conference room, chatting animatedly with Wanda. Rounding the corner, you spot a sullen looking Bucky, and an absolutely murderous looking Logan. You snort out loud causing both men to regard you sheepishly. Moving toward Logan, you take a seat beside him, squeezing his hand, letting him know all is forgiven. The corners of his mouth lifts minutely, shoulders relaxing. You chance a look at Bucky who is scowling at the conference room table, and sigh. You knew this wasn't going to be easy. 

Tony claps his hands together, “Alright ladies and gents. We received intel about an hour ago. We have located the base where the op to take, (Y/N) and tin can is being run from.” 

Logan chuckles briefly at Tony’s jab at Bucky. You nudge him hard in the ribs. “Don’t be a child!” you whisper angrily. He has the good grace to look slightly guilty. 

“The base is heavily guarded. At least a hundred agents protect it, along with anti-aircraft weaponry and various other booby traps.” Tony gestures at Steve, who stands from his chair. 

“The X-men will go in first. Storm will create cover, while (Y/N) disables the booby traps and weaponry.” You nod in understanding. “Logan, Colossus, myself and Bucky will engage in the front, while Tony, Sam and Vision take the sky.” He pauses to look each person in the eye. “Kitty will take Clint, Natasha, and Wanda through the back to disable whomever is inside and destroy the op specs.” 

Dread fills you at the mention of Natasha. You don't trust her to do this. You swallow down the panic in your throat, turning your attention back to Steve. 

“Everybody understand?” he asks, receiving affirmative responses around the room. “Good. Everybody get some shut eye. We leave in twelve hours.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

Logan pulls you from your seat, ushering you down the hallway to your bedroom, receiving a harsh glare from Bucky as he holds your hand possessively. You did not have a good feeling about this.


	16. Chapter 16

Surfacing gently from the arms of sleep, a light touch skimming up and down your spine, a content grumble piercing the veil of sleep.  
“Wake up, darlin’.”  
Logan’s deep voice washes over you, and you groan, wanting nothing more than to stay in your cocoon for the rest of the day.  
Logan chuckles deeply, nuzzling your neck. “C’mon sleepy head. We gotta get ready. We leave in an hour.”  
Mumbling incoherently about the injustice of being woken at such an ungodly hour, you reluctantly get out of bed. Stumbling blindly to the ensuite bathroom, you spy the tight fitting red and black combat suit hanging on a hook on the door. Stepping into the shower, your muscles protesting with a delicious burn that has you flushing, memories of last night flash through your mind. Grinning stupidly, you return to the task at hand wanting nothing more than to get this mission over and go home. With Logan.  
Fifteen minutes later, you’re suited up and munching on a cereal bar, trailing behind Logan and Tony as the Iron Man chatters about how he could make some killer gear for Logan. It was a terrifying thought.  
“That’s going to be a problem,” Colossus says as he joins you.  
You snort. “Oh I know, they could kill us all.”  
Kitty giggles, “Oh (y/N) you’re going to have your hands full.”  
The conversation is cut off as Steve strides into the room followed by Bucky and Sam. “Everybody ready?” The Captain America persona masks every trace of Steve. He scrutinizes every one of the surrounding faces, seeing nothing but grim determination in every one of them. “Everybody good with the plan?” Again he receives nods all around. “Alright, let’s go.”  
Clambering onto the jet, Bucky grabs your arm. He hesitates briefly before he gruffly says, “Be careful.” Emotion swims in his eyes.  
Opening your mouth to speak, Logan interrupts. “You comin’, darlin’?” he asks, hard stare boring into Bucky.  
“Yeah, I’m coming.” You leave Bucky standing alone, watching you walk away with Logan.  
The jet is silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts. The bad feeling causing bile to rise in your throat. You don’t know why you feel this dread, the impending doom settling on you as you close in on the target. You know that something is going to go horribly wrong. You can feel it in every nerve and synapse in your body, screaming at you to turn around. Go home. Regroup.  
But you have to, you must, you have no other choice but to save the people around you from Hydra. From destruction. From themselves.  
“Descent in 30 seconds,” comes Clint’s voice through the jet.  
“Gear up,” Steve commands.  
Glancing at Storm you murmur, “We need cover.”  
She nods and lifts into the air, eyes going white as she calls upon her power. The Avengers look momentarily stunned, but quickly get back in formation, waiting to jump out of the plane.  
“Kitty, grab your group, you need to get in as quickly as you can.” She nods, gives you a light squeeze on the arm, before she grabs Natasha and the others and disappears from view. You turn to Logan and regard him closely, Bucky lingering behind him. “If this goes balls up, get out immediately. Don’t come back for me. I’ll be okay.”  
He growls deep in his chest. “Ya know I can’t do that, darlin’,” he replies as he draws you too him, planting a soft kiss on your lips.  
“Logan you have to promise me.” Frantically trying to get him to understand, he merely shakes his head, making his way to jump out of the jet.  
“I’ll see ya on the other side,” he yells as he jumps.  
“He’s right ya know.” Bucky’s voice startling you out of your chaotic thoughts. “We will always come back for ya,” he murmurs.  
“Bucky….” you begin.  
He cuts you off by grabbing your face in his hands, and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before he joins the others in jumping out the out the plane.  
image

Fuck! you scream internally.It’s a mess. There are too many. You are vastly outnumbered. Your team taking hits, Logan is fighting off several men at once, Bucky providing backup. Retreat! You scream at them mentally. Get out now! No one’s listening, your cries falling on deaf ears. Steve get them out! Five seconds later you hear the order coming over the com’s. The team scrambles to get back to the jet. Tony, Sam and Vision covering them while the rest run. You stride forward, putting up a barrier between the oncoming death squad and the people you care about. Taking a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the panicked screaming of Logan as he tries desperately to break through the barrier you had created. He throws himself bodily against the invisible shield, his anguished cries grating against your heart, breaking with every garbled word out of his mouth. You mouth, “I love you,” as he sinks to his knees, defeated. You gather every ounce of power you have, hovering a few feet off the ground, and let the darkness that’s been slowly consuming you over the past months out. It flows and crackles across your skin, destroying everything in its path. Agents disintegrate under the heat of it. Weapons explode in a ball of fire. Buildings seem to shift brick by brick as you let everything you have been holding in out.Control slips entirely as you laugh with the joy of it. The freedom that comes with not holding back. Setting yourself back on the ground, you know you have mere seconds before this all blows up in your face. You need to get out and quickly. You may be immortal but you aren’t invulnerable. Whirling around, ready to make a break for the retreating jet, you see an anguished Logan being bodily thrown into the plane by Colossus. But Steve is screaming for Bucky who seems to be missing. You scan the area quickly. A low moan comes from your right. Bucky is largely covered with debris, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. You run toward him, flinging the debris off him. “You gotta get up, soldier!” you practically scream. He barely registers your presence. The world around you goes quiet. A silent vacuum, a low, “Wooomph,” reaching your ears. You know you’re too late. Things are about to go from bad to worse and Bucky is in no position to help himself. You straddle his hips, planting your feet firmly in the soil on either side of you. Tears are streaming down your face. It’s going to hurt. You don’t know if you are going to make it out of this one, but saving Logan? Saving Bucky? You would die a thousand deaths over and over if it meant they were safe. You hear the oncoming explosion before the flames engulf you. Extending a shield around Bucky to protect him from the blast, you can feel the flesh being ripped off your bones. Flames burn away your clothing. The stench of burning flesh hanging heavy in the air. Pieces of rebar and stones embed themselves in you as you scream out your pain. It’s an inhuman sound. Hold on, just hold on! You repeat in your head as your body starts to fail. You’re going into shock, but you can’t give up. You can’t stop. Bucky stares up at you, grief plain in his eyes as he watches you burn. He can do nothing to help you. He’s stuck watching you die. In agony. Saving him. It’s over as quickly as it began. You slump forward. Numb is all you feel, then, suddenly, you’re burning. On fire. Nothing left to give, nothing left to say, you let the darkness take you as Bucky wails underneath you.


	17. Chapter 17

Logans POV

“Turn this fuckin’ bird around, Stark!” he says as he advances on Tony. “We left her back there! After she saved your good for nothing asses, and you just left her!” He knows he’s screaming, but he can’t stop. You have to be alive, to be whole. He can't go through this, not again. He needs you like he needs air.   
“Turn it around! Why the fuck ain't nobody doing anything!” he frantically searches the faces of the gathered group, seeing nothing but defeat in them. It has his heart dropping into his stomach.   
They won't go back for you. They think you're dead.   
“She’s dead, wolfman. There's no point in going back.” The red headed assassin points out, a slight smirk on her face. She's doing her best to look contrite but he sees right through her.   
He growl menacingly at her. “If she’s dead I know who I'm blaming!” He scrutinizes her appearance. There isn't a speck of dirt on her, or a hair out of place. Suspicion clouds his mind. He’s going to get to the bottom of this. There was never supposed to be that many agents, grabbing Steve by the arm he says, “We need to go back, we need to find her,” his voice taking on a pleading edge.   
Steve stares at him dumbly. “I saw what happened. She went to help Buck.” His voice breaks “She tried to save his life.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s no way they survived that.”   
It feels as though his heart has been ripped from his chest. You went back to save... him? Why? He was screaming for you, begging you to run, to come back to him and yet you chose to die for someone else?   
He sits heavily, dumbfounded by this new information. Was any of it real? Were you merely using him to get over the damaged tin can> Shaking his head, he knows the answer. If it came down to it, you would choose Bucky over him any day.   
It was Jean all over again. He was never enough.   
Trying unsuccessfully to rein in his emotions, he runs a hand through his hair. He was never going to see you smile again, hear your laugh. He would never again save you from your dismal attempts at cooking, or hear you curse at him when he got a little mouthy.   
You were gone for good this time. He couldn't save you. He had failed again. He can feel the scream bubbling up his throat. Hands digging into the seat below him, his claws slide out. He tries to fight the rising pain, stuff it down to deal with later, but he can't. He’s lost too much, seen too much, felt too much.   
Before he can stop himself, he lets out an anguished roar that seems to shake the plane. No one moves to stop him, or comfort him. He doesn't register when Steve starts to sob beside him. He doesn't register it when Storm stands in front of him, trying to dig him out of the dark hole he’s descending into. He doesn't notice when Sam lays his hand on his shoulder, and he moves to attack. He doesn't register the screams of his team members as the Wolverine attempts to slash through everything standing between him and (Y/N). He doesn’t register it when Colossus turns to steel and knocks him out cold.   
He only notices the welcoming darkness and the reprieve it will bring from the mind searing pain in his chest.

He wakes slowly. Reaching out for your sleeping form, he finds the sheets cold. Confused he turns to face the spot you should be in, finding only empty air. Had you gotten up? 

“(Y/N)?” he calls out, his foggy mind trying to figure out where you could have gone too. Maybe you went for breakfast? He turns to face the alarm clock, the time showing 6:32am. Nope, he snorts, you never got up that early  
Confused and worried, he sits up, rubbing at his sleep crusted eyes, mind swirling with thoughts. His eyes snap open, the sudden crushing realization that you were, in fact, dead slamming into him like a freight train. 

No.. no… it's a dream, just a dream.   
He’s going to wake up and you will be next to him, smiling beautifully at him. Shaking his head and pinching his arm, he tries to wake himself to no avail.   
Oh god, oh no…   
You really were gone. There was no way around that. He had to call the professor. Oh fuck. The realization dawns that no matter how hard he kicked against this one there was no way to fix it.   
Logan takes a deep breath. For the first time, he lets himself cry.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky POV

He had dragged you to the only remaining building after he had set his leg, his super soldier healing kicking in as soon as the bone was set. You were a mess. Bits of debris stuck in the little flesh you had left. Your silky (H/C) hair all but gone.   
He couldn't bear to look at you, the gnawing guilt suffocating him. You had stayed for him, sacrificed yourself for him. Stray tears leaking out of his eyes, he sets to work on getting the rebar out of your chest.   
It had gone straight through your heart, killing you instantly. He was amazed at the beating you had taken. Bracing himself against the wall of the building, he gets a firm grip on the metal and pulls. The rebar comes loose with a sickening crunch, josling your marred body with the force. He gags, then composes himself. He needs to find water to wash the dirt out of your wounds. He knows it's a futile exercise, you’re gone, but some part of him is holding onto hope.  
He ventures into the destroyed terrain, marveling at the power you held. This was his fault. He had let his jealousy and insecurities push you away from him. He had forced you to leave your home, your family because he couldn't figure out what was happening in his own min. A wrecked sob forces itself out of his throat, welcoming the pain in his leg as a distraction. He spots a little pond and digs around his many pockets for a canteen. Dipping the bottle into the water, he returns to where he left you, stunned by what he finds. 

Your flesh is slowly knitting together, your body desperately trying to repair the damage inflicted upon it. It’s a slow process but it gives him hope. Hope that you would indeed make it through, that you were still alive. Hope that when all this was over he could hold you in his arms once more and make it right, fix his past mistakes, and repair your fractured relationship.   
He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had to try. He owed it to you to try.   
Bending down he rips a piece of his shirt off and dips it into the water, gently running the cloth over the deeper wounds, removing any dirt that remains in them. He gently trickles water between your chapped lips, watching as you swallow with a low moan, fingers twitching at the coolness of it. He smiles. You were going to pull through this. He would have another chance. You groan again, lips forming words, but he can barely hear you. Straining his senses he leans lower finally hearing, “I’m sorry” and “Run”. His heart sinks. You must be reliving the mission, a dream that is obviously causing you distress. “(Y/N),” he murmurs. “Wake up darlin’,” he says. 

You squirm briefly before settling. Your deformed hand reaching for his. 

“Logan,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering.

His heart plummets into his stomach. Of course she would be calling for him, he had seen the scene play out before Steve and Colossus had forced him onto the plane. It sends jealousy roaring through him. Jealousy he has no right to. 

“I’m here,” he whispers, trying to reassure you. “I'm right here, darlin’. I ain't going anywhere,” he says as the tears flow freely. 

He’s trying his best not to loose it, not to give in to the whirling emotion in his head. He’s trying to wrap his mind around the fact that you did survive, that you were here, that you were going to be okay, but that he had screwed up so badly that he never stood a chance. 

“Logan!” 

Your voice thick with panic, your arms flailing. He tries his best to hold you down, your heartbeat erratic in your chest. He grits his teeth, making vague shushing noises, trying to pierce the veil of sleep. “Wake up, (Y/N)!” he yells. You still briefly, before your back arches off the floor, eyes flying open briefly before you let out a blood curdling scream that sends chills down his spine. He’s never heard anything like it. The words so mangled with pain and heartbreak that it nearly tears him in two. 

The two word you keep repeating over and over:

“Logan! Run!”

A/N: another short chapter


End file.
